


Self Love

by orphan_account



Category: Video Blogging RPF, supermega
Genre: Blood, Cutting, Gen, Knifeplay, Masochism, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23891476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He knew it was weird. He knew it was wrong. He knew it was gross.
Kudos: 9





	Self Love

He knew it was weird. He knew it was wrong. He knew it was gross. Ryan was fully aware that others wouldn’t approve of his actions. He knew that friends worried about him. He knew this was fucked up.

He couldn’t stop though.

When that blade was dragged across his skin, it made him feel ways that nothing else could. Heat would rush through him and he’d grit his teeth in guilty pleasure. The pain engrossing him and possessing his every thought. His craving for more strengthening as his shaky hand tried to satisfy it.

Blood would peak out from under the metal blade of the box cutter. Red would escape the confines of his skin and drip. It would be on his floor, his bed, his body. It would soak and stain, leaving behind clear signs of his sins. Good god, it was such a gorgeous substance, a wonderful mess.

The blood’s deep scarlet hue. It’s warm feeling as it ran down his arms. It’s unique metallic taste and smell that’d invade Ryan’s senses. It was perfect. There was nothing else quite like the satisfaction of its presence, because when it smiled up at him he knew that he had done something good. He had welcomed it’s pretty little face into his home and for him to enjoy. It must be lonely trapped under his skin all the time.

Not to mention that wonderful sensation. That stinging pain that penetrated his flesh. The way his carefully cared for blade would pierce through his skin so effortlessly. Ryan could never get enough. It was a thirst that couldn’t be quenched, a dog that wouldn’t stop barking, a sun that never set.

He’d get excited every session, the feelings overwhelming. He’d touch himself as he savored the pleasure pulsing through him. Sometimes he’d drag the blade across his shaft. Light and careful, having the cold material of his blade graze his sensitive skin. His dick throbbing in excitement. He’d never actually cut it, but the idea thrilled him.

Scars lined his upper arms, his thighs, his torso. Thin lines imprinted on his flesh, and carefully placed so that they were easier to conceal. Reminders of the nights before. Tangible memories that he could pet and ponder. Ryan has become extremely good at hiding them. His little friends. 

Some days, Ryan would day dream of going home and being reacquainted with his array of knives and sharp objects. He’d picture laying on his bed and getting to work. Sometimes he’d carry a pocket knife with him so that he could just pull it out and take care of the unbearable urge through out the day. Oh, how his skin ached and yearned for its touch.

He wasn’t depressed. He wasn’t doing this because he thought he deserved it. He did it because he wanted it. It’s what he liked. It’s what he was into. He didn’t consider it self harm, but instead self love.

No one else would understand. 

No one else could understand.

Only Ryan would ever truly get it.

So he was left alone with nothing, but his blades and his self love.


End file.
